


Withdrawal

by mithrel



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Blanket Permission, M/M, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-24
Updated: 2009-06-24
Packaged: 2017-11-10 11:09:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/465587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/pseuds/mithrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur finds himself obsessed with Merlin, and he doesn’t know why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Withdrawal

“You can go, Merlin,” Arthur said. “Be back tomorrow morning.”

Merlin nodded, and left.

He lay down on his bed, reflecting on the seeming impossibility that, despite his complete incompetence and frequent insubordination (or perhaps because of it) Merlin was the best servant he’d ever had, closer to a friend than a subordinate.

He’d never have expected that being challenged constantly and sometimes flat-out insulted would be refreshing, but when everyone else (with the exceptions of Uther and Morgana) treated him like some sort of demigod, it was pleasant to have someone who was willing to tell him he was being an idiot.

***

The next day, when Merlin came in, he was surprised at how pleased he was to see him. He was careful not to let him see; he was a prince, after all, he shouldn’t want to break out in a soppy grin just because his servant was there.

“I begin to wonder if you actually know the difference between ‘morning’ and ‘afternoon.’”

Merlin shrugged. “Gaius wanted my help.”

Arthur glowered inwardly at the fact that Merlin would rather help Gaius than him. “Gaius can’t put you in the stocks.”

“That’s right,” Merlin said. “He can’t.”

Arthur fumed even more at that, so jealous he didn’t stop to think of _why_ he was jealous. He hadn’t made a pass at Merlin, even though he might want to, for all sorts of reasons, most of them having to do with who and what he was and who Merlin was.

“I’m going out. I want this place spotless when I get back!”

“Sure,” Merlin agreed.

“I mean it,” he warned him. “One speck of dirt—” he left the threat unfinished.

“Yes, I know.”

Arthur stormed out of the room.

***

He didn’t get back to his room until evening, and Merlin was gone. He stifled his annoyance, ignored the inexplicable disappointment, and got ready for bed himself.

He dreamed of black hair and blue eyes and protruding ears, and lips, tongue and teeth that did things to him that he tried not to examine too closely when he woke up, flushed and sweating.

This was getting out of control. He didn’t want to sleep with Merlin, not really. But the pressure between his legs gave the lie to that thought.

He looked out the window. Not long after dawn. No one should disturb him. Certainly Merlin shouldn’t be here for hours yet.

He sighed, and set about taking care of the problem.

He reached down, and stroked himself, groaning. He was so hard it hurt, and he didn’t think he was going to last long. He slipped a hand inside his shirt, to play with one of his nipples. He imagined Merlin licking and sucking at his chest…no! He refused to think of that.

He pictured a woman, instead, buxom, sultry, with black hair and large ears…

He growled in frustration, and reshaped his fantasy. Long red hair, brown eyes, looking nothing like Merlin.

He kept stroking himself, imagining fucking the girl in his imagination, her gasps and moans echoing, hands scrabbling at his back…

But he wasn’t able to come. He imagined her between his legs, looking up at him with an adoring expression, before swallowing him down…

Nothing. The woman changed again, and Merlin knelt between his legs, looking up at him with a knowing grin, and he came so fast and so hard he whited out.

He took a moment to recover, and got up, refusing to think about the fantasy he’d just indulged in. He cleaned up, since he most definitely did not want Merlin asking questions.

Merlin came in not long after that, and prepared his bath. Arthur kept his eyes resolutely away from him. Or tried to. He couldn’t seem to keep from sneaking glances at Merlin out of the corner of his eye.

When Merlin dressed him, he managed to keep from reacting, but only with superhuman effort. Merlin’s hands on him seemed to linger more than usual, but it was probably just his imagination.

Rather than going riding or practising his weaponswork, he stayed in his room, pretending to read, but actually staring at Merlin whenever he wasn’t looking. He came up with all sorts of things for Merlin to do, like picking up his chambers, organising his books and polishing the furniture, to keep him there as long as possible.

Merlin brought him lunch, and later dinner, and ate with him. Arthur didn’t eat much, focussed on Merlin’s lips, and his throat as he swallowed.

When it began to get dark, he finally dismissed Merlin.

“Good night, Arthur,” he said as he left.

“Good night, Merlin,” he replied softly.

***

The next day, he woke up feeling jittery and irritable. He ignored it. He could always work it out on the practice field later.

Merlin wasn’t there yet, and so he dressed himself with the usual amused exasperation.

He had a meeting with the Council, and he found his attention wandering away from the discussions of a possible alliance.

He wondered where Merlin was. Certainly it wasn’t the first time that he hadn’t seen him until the afternoon, but he couldn’t imagine what he’d been doing.

As the Council progressed he began to sweat. His stomach roiled, and his hands began to shake.

Uther noticed. “Arthur, are you alright? You look like you’re coming down with something.”

“I’m fine,” he said, but just then he was overcome by a wave of vertigo.

Uther turned to a servant. “Summon Gaius.” He motioned to two more. “Take him to his room.”

The servants supported him between them back to his chambers. He was no longer thinking, no longer doing anything but trying to keep his head from splitting in half.

Gaius was waiting when they returned. “Put him on the bed,” he directed, and Arthur sank into the sheets gratefully.

He felt a hand on his forehead. “Hmm, his skin’s clammy.”

Gaius pried his eyelids open and he groaned. “Sorry sire. Dilated pupils. Possibly the grippe. I can make up something for that fairly easily.”

He left, and Arthur slipped into formless dreams where he was searching for something but unable to find it.

He woke when someone pounded into his room.

He sat up, shaking off the dreams, to see Merlin standing by his bed looking frantic. “Gaius told me you were sick. God, Arthur, I’m sorry!”

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, moving to get up out of bed. “I feel better already.” And indeed, the nausea had receded.

Merlin pushed him back down. “No, stay in bed. God, Arthur, I never meant—” he broke off.

At Merlin’s hands on his shoulders, a spasm of intense need shot through him, enough to make his vision haze over.

He reached out to Merlin and drew him into bed with him. He didn’t resist.

He buried his face in Merlin’s neck, inhaling his scent, then licked up his neck to mouth behind his ear.

Merlin made a soft noise, somewhere between a whimper and a gasp, and so he did it again, then licked along the shell of his ear before biting at the lobe.

At that, Merlin swore. “Gods, Arthur!”

He moved to kiss Merlin, desperately and without finesse. It was sloppy and wet, and perfect, and Merlin was kissing him back.

He licked down Merlin’s throat, unlacing his shirt as he did so, and Merlin arched against him with a moan. He sucked at the pulse point hard enough to bruise, wanting there to be a physical mark of his ownership. Merlin writhed under him.

He spent quite some time tormenting the hollow of Merlin’s throat, and biting at his collarbone, until he swore again, and gasped, “Arthur, for God’s _sake!_ ”

He chuckled. “Oh, no. You’ve been tormenting me for too long. I’m not about to spare you the same treatment.”

He drew Merlin up and pulled his shirt off, and moved to bite, lick and suck at his nipples. Merlin keened and began babbling. “Gods, Arthur, yes, God, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

He wondered what Merlin was apologising for, but with his body finally, _finally_ underneath him, and the noises he was making, and the way he was arching into every touch, he couldn’t spare any thought for it.

He finally opened Merlin’s breeches, letting him free, and without even removing his breeches completely, he swallowed him to the root.

Merlin whined something that sounded like a curse, but it was in a language he’d never heard before, and he continued to babble as Arthur pulled back to mouth at the head, moved his hand around to play with his balls, ran his tongue along the vein at the underside until he finally let out a strangled, “Arthur, I’m…” and Arthur swallowed him again and he came down his throat.

Merlin pulled him up and kissed him, and it was different than their first kiss, slow and sweet and almost regretful.

Then Merlin moved to kneel between his legs, and swirled his tongue along Arthur’s cock. Arthur looked down, seeing his fantasy from two nights ago made real, and came with Merlin’s name on his lips.

He pulled him up to lie next to him, realising that he felt entirely normal. Merlin averted his eyes and muttered something under his breath that Arthur couldn’t catch. He wasn’t even sure it was English.

“What?”

“Nothing!” Merlin said, looking guilty. Then he looked at him. “Do…do you regret it?”

“No, do you?” he wanted to know.

“You…you don’t?” He sounded so surprised that Arthur frowned.

“Of course not. I’d been thinking about it for awhile, I just hadn’t done anything.”

“You _had?_ ” If he had sounded surprised before, now he sounded frankly incredulous.

“Yes, I had.”

“Why didn’t you do something before now?”

“Politics,” he spat, and Merlin nodded sympathetically.

He smiled. “Now that I’ve done it once, though, I’d definitely like to do it again. That is, if you’d like to,” he amended, suddenly insecure.

Merlin smiled softly. “I would.”


End file.
